Oceans Apart
by PodSara
Summary: Sequel to Broken Wings. Rinoa's been gone five years. Where is she, and who is she with? Back at Garden, someone is murdering young female cadets, and Squall has been set up to take the blame. Can Quistis clear his name?
1. Prologue

Before you read this story, please read its prequel, Broken Wings

_**"If you didn't care what happened to me**_ _**and I didn't care what for you**_ _**we would zigzag away through the boredom and pain**_ _**occasionally glancing up through the rain**_ _**wondering which of the buggers to blame**_ _**and watching for pigs on the wing . . . ."**_

_Pigs on the Wing, Part 1_ _Pink Floyd_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Water.

Water was the first sound she heard as she awoke, and she wondered for a brief moment where the sound was coming from. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to the dim light afforded by the tiny cabin porthole. Even this little light was enough to sting her sleep tender eyes, bringing tiny tears to their corners. For just a moment, she wasn't sure where she was.

She sat up and pushed away the arm that encircled her waist and caught a glimpse of sandy blond hair peeking out from under the blanket. Normally, she'd wake him too, but she felt like being alone, before the children woke and began clamoring for breakfast.

A glance around the cabin reminded her of where she was and all that she'd left behind five long years ago. There, against the closet door, a gunblade, scarred by countless battles. There on the desk, the travelogues and maps, the CB radio and the stacks of books on diving. It is the photos, however that draw her attention. In the first, six children smile back at her with accusing eyes. It's as if they know she's abandoned them, so she turns her eyes to the second photograph. This one is no easier to take in. The same children, minus one, but plus herself, all older and just as accusing. Her comrades and friends. The people that had fought to save her life twice. It was a happier time. Sometimes, she wished she could go back and stay in that time forever, but the reality of it was that she now had two small children who needed her. She'd been gone long enough. Maybe they'd forgotten all about her.

She arose from the bed and dressed for the day in shorts and a tank top, still thinking of her friends. The photos would have to go. She didn't know why she even bothered to leave them up in the first place. They were only reminders of how badly she'd messed things up. Carefully, she took them down and placed them in the closet where she wouldn't have to see them anymore. She couldn't handle the guilt she felt when she looked at them.

Quietly, she opened the door and tread down the hall to check on the children. They were still asleep. She gave each one a kiss on the forehead and left them. They would be awake soon enough.

Up on the deck, she took in the beauty of the morning by herself. She wouldn't have it any other way. It was hard to appreciate such a view when the children were busy fighting over a toy and her companion couldn't find something that was right in front of him, should he care to move things out of the way before he gave up. Not that they were a burden, because they weren't. They were the best thing that ever happened to her. She hadn't expected to fall in love again, nor had she expected to start a family and love them so completely. They were not her burden. The memories were the burden.

The day had dawned clear and bright, cloudless and warm. It was going to be another hot day. No matter. She didn't feel the heat anymore. In fact, she rather enjoyed it, preferring to feel the sun against her already deeply tanned skin than to feel the chill of winter.

She leaned against the railing and looked at the waters below. Just yesterday, she'd spent a couple of hours beneath the surface. The reefs below were home to the most bizarre aquatic life she'd ever seen, and she'd been reluctant to come up, preferring to stay beneath the water. She hoped to spend a little more time below today, but they were running low on supplies and would have to move on soon. Food wasn't the problem. Upon the ocean, they had plenty to eat, but the necessities like soap and dry goods, their supply wouldn't hold out much longer. Besides, the oxygen tanks were almost empty. Too bad, really.

She pulled up the lobster traps to check if anything had wandered into them overnight, and was rewarded with four large lobsters. She dropped them into a bucket and set them aside. That was dinner for tonight.

A pair of strong arms encircled her from behind as she stared out at the endless sea. "Morning, beautiful," he whispered in her ear and placed a kiss on her sun bronzed cheek. "Sleep well?"

"Well enough," she replied without emotion.

"You know, Balamb is the closest port," he said. "Maybe we should stop there for supplies instead of trying to make it to Dollet."

She shook her head and said what she always said when he suggested they stop in Balamb. "Let's just keep sailing for the rest of our lives."

* * *

The girl couldn't believe how suddenly her date had gone from romantic to psychotic. They'd been laughing and joking only a short time ago, and now he'd taken what she would have willingly given him anyway. She felt used, dirty, and he laughed at her tears and mocked her terror. He really was as cold and heartless as the other girls had said.

She buttoned her pants and sniffled. All she wanted to do was go back to Garden and go to sleep. She wanted to forget about this and get on with her life. Her studies weren't going well anyhow, and she knew she needed to buckle down and focus on her exams rather than spend all her time dating, something a Cadet shouldn't be doing anyhow. But everyone did. Everyone snuck out to meet secretly these days. She'd been stupid to think that nothing would happen.

"I can't let you leave here," he said and unsheathed his gunblade. "Not alive anyway. You'd tell someone what I did to you."

Terrified, the girl shook her head, no, but he came at her, the gunblade ready to cut her down. Instinct took over and she got to her feet and sprinted away from him, too frightened to scream. No one would have heard her anyway. That was the sad thing. She should never have agreed to a picnic in the woods, where they might become lost or worse, killed by ax murderers. She'd had no idea that it was _he_ that was the ax murderer.

Barefoot, she ran through the woods, branches and leaves cracking under her feet. Something had cut her, and it hurt, but she didn't care. All she could think about was getting to safety because she was certain he would kill her. She wasn't ready to die yet. Not yet. _Not yet..._

Suddenly, she tripped over a log that she didn't see and she fell forward, her face in the dirt. Her breath left her and she struggled to get up, but the cuff of her pants had caught on something.

"There you are," he said with a grin as he appeared among the trees. "You didn't think you could get away, did you?"

"Please," she cried, as she struggled to free herself. "Just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

He chuckled and brought the blade down. She felt her face split open, from forehead to chin and she let out a shriek of pain. "I won't. Please," she begged.

"It's nothing personal," he said, then giggled as if he were mad.

The blade came down again and again, and all she could do was lie there and tremble and pray that someone would help her. She didn't notice anymore the way he giggled and chattered to her, all she knew was the pain as he slashed at her over and over.

She was already dead when the tip of the gunblade pierced her heart.

* * *

The red dragon before him snarled and saliva dripped from it's sharp, monstrous teeth. It thought he would be it's next meal for sure, however, he had other plans for it. His mighty blade came down upon the beast's flank, and the steel weapon wedged it's way into flesh and bone. The dragon let out a furious groan and lunged forward, it's jaws snapped and it shuddered with rage. The young warrior was tired of the battle, and he summoned Shiva to finish the creature off.

Shiva should have been enough to kill the beast but still it had a little fight left in it and it breathed a cloud of sulfurous stench at him, leaving him without sight. Still, he had a few Blizzaga spells left and he immediately cast one. Though he couldn't see his target, he knew he'd made his mark when he heard the sound of ice shattering. The dragon roared and then fell to the ground. It was dead. Finally.

His shift was now over. He returned to camp, exhausted from a day's work. He didn't bother to eat or shower, he merely fell upon his cot and drifted through errant thoughts as he tried to fall asleep.

He found he could no longer remember what she looked like, the girl he still longed for. He remembered her name, but for the life of him, could not picture her laughing brown eyes. An unfortunate side effect of the GF, perhaps, but maybe it was for the best that he forget about her. It had been five years since he'd last seen her in person. It was expected that her memory would fade.

Did that mean, too, that he might soon forget how much he'd loved her and how much it had hurt when she'd left? He hoped so. Forgetting would be a welcome thing. Maybe then he could begin to rebuild himself, once she was gone from his memory.

It had been so long since she'd left. She'd promised to return, but she never did. He'd waited by the front entrance, hoping against hope that it might be the day that she walked back into his life. She never had. There had never been a letter or a phone call to say that she was all right. Only one post card in all those years. A picture of some resort town in a part of the world he'd never visited...Costa Del Sol, was it? It had been hastily written and signed, as if it were an afterthought. But not a word since. That was four years ago in August.

As he slipped into much needed sleep, her name rolled on the waves of slumber, repeating over and over inside his head, like waves upon a long forgotten beach.

Rinoa.

_Come home. _

* * *

_Notes_

_So...here it is...the prologue. I've had to change the rating on this story from pg13 to R because it contains some rather violent and sexually oriented content. Not that any of it will be explicit, mind you, but just to be safe ._

_I'm going to warn you know, this story is much darker than Broken Wings, and the writing style is much different. I did away with the first person present because I could not write the story the way I wanted to using the same format. Still, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope I haven't lost any readers because of the content or the changes...I'm very proud of this one. I think I've done some of my best writing with this story, and I hope you enjoy it..._


	2. Murder in Balamb

**OCEANS APART**

_**Sequel to Broken Wings**_

* * *

_**I took for granted all the times**_ _**that I thought would last somehow**_ _**I hear the laughter, I taste the tears**_ _**but I can't get near you now . . .**_

_Right Here Waiting,_ _Richard Marx_

* * *

_**Chapter One**_

_Murder In Balamb_

_

* * *

_

Sylania Dulene was drunk. Not just a little drunk, but very, very intoxicated. She giggled at everything her date said, even though he wasn't trying to be funny. She'd lost count of how many Gin & Tonics she'd had, and she didn't really care. She'd be expelled from Garden if anyone found out about this, or if she got caught sneaking back into her dorm room after hours, and she didn't care about that either. Her grades were poor, and more than likely she'd be dismissed by the end of the year for lousy marks.

"Let's get out of here," her date told her and jerked his head towards the door.

Hyne, he was handsome. Sy thought she could stare at him for hours, taking in every feature of his face. True, he was a bit unremarkable, handsome in a common, boyish way, but that didn't matter. She'd been thrilled that he'd asked her out. He was a SeeD, and just to be seen with him in this bar would bolster her popularity rating ten points or more. Wouldn't the others be jealous?

Sy, a cadet, was no stranger to dating SeeDs. Just three months ago, she'd been out with the man himself, the legend, Squall Leonhart. It had only been once, but it was enough to make her the talk of the dorm for weeks. But Squall, he was still in love with that other girl, the Sorceress that disappeared. He tried to be tough and pretend it didn't matter, but Sy could see right through him. It was in those pretty blue eyes of his. Sadness written all over his face. She could tell that he was measuring her against the Sorceress, and Sy knew she didn't quite make the grade.

But no matter. Squall was pretty heartless anyway. He never paid her a compliment, not even once, and he acted bored on every date they'd gone out on. Sy was smart enough to know that she was just another conquest to him, and she was okay with that. She wasn't one of those girls that really believed that Squall Leonhart would fall in love and marry her. She hadn't been interested in mending his wounded soul like the others. She'd only been after status, anyway, just like she was now. Her date tonight was a hero, too, in his own way, though not nearly as recognized as the lauded six.

Mindlessly, she followed her date out the door, not paying attention to where he lead her, and she didn't care much. She was oblivious to the dark storefronts they passed or that the section of town he lead her through was mostly business, and absolutely deserted at that hour of the night. She could barely see straight as it was, and had to lean on him to keep from falling down.

When he lead her into a dark alley near the harbor, she paid no mind. His hands groped her, and she couldn't have stopped him if she'd wanted to. Not that she minded at all. Any inhibitions she might have had were washed away by all the alcohol she'd consumed. In the darkness, she could not even make out his face, so she closed her eyes, only to open them again when the world began to swim. Her skin grew cold and clammy, light perspiration beaded on her brow.

She felt as if she were going to be sick.

"I'm gonna throw up," she warned, her words thick.

"You'll be fine," he whispered as he undid the button on her jeans.

Sy's stomach rolled and she violently expelled the poison she'd so recently ingested. She heaved three times and collapsed to the ground, weak and exhausted.

Rough hands seized her and shoved her against the wall. "Disgusting," he whispered. "Now I'm going to have to punish you for being such a bad girl."

Sy couldn't make the words out. She was having a hard time remaining awake. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Again, he slammed her body against the bricks. Stars of pain spiraled behind her eyes and she would have fallen if not for the hands that held her in an iron grip. She could not understand what was happening. Despite her stomach's earlier protest of her drinking binge, she was still terribly, horribly drunk. More than anything she wanted to run away and find somewhere to sleep it off-a bench, a sidewalk, but her body refused to move.

For a few minutes, she did loose consciousness, and when she came to, she was on her back, her pants around her ankles. He'd finished with her before she even knew what he was doing to her. Maybe now that he was satisfied, he'd leave her alone and let her sleep, but he was far from finished.

Her eyes focused a bit and she could see a demonic rage in his eyes. He seized her hair and slammed her head hard against the concrete driveway beneath her. She screamed in pain and clawed at him, digging her nails into the flesh of his arm.

"Help!" she called out to the empty night. "Please, don't do this," she begged him. "I'll do anything you want."

Something above her gleamed in the feeble darkness, a flash of something shiny and metal. A blade of some kind. A big one.

"It's nothing personal," he giggled and brought the blade down upon her. It sliced into her face and she tasted the warm saltiness of blood on her tongue. Then, in horror, she watched him slowly draw it again and with rapid succession, he struck at her again and again. The blade sliced into her breast one final time, and it pierced her heart, a fatal wound.

The last thing she heard as she lay dying was the sound of her own shrill scream as it cut through the dark night beyond. It echoed through the deserted streets of Balamb, a sound of pitiful agony.

It's too bad there was not a soul around to hear her.

* * *

At a quarter past midnight, Squall Leonhart stepped off the train in Balamb, weary and mildly depressed. Behind him were five other SeeDs, all equally weary from the mission. They'd just returned from Trabia where a large colony of Red Dragons had begun to invade a small town, and SeeD had been commissioned to stop them. High rent pest control. But that didn't mean it had been easy. Every one of them would have agreed with him when he decided that if he never saw another Red Dragon as long as he lived, it would still be too soon. He'd lost count of how many he personally had slain, and he didn't really care. At least it was over, and Commander Trepe would be pleased.

During the Esthar Sorceress Scare five years ago, he'd resigned his post as commander, much to the Headmaster's chagrin. Squall, though was glad he'd done it. He'd missed the missions and the battles, and now he volunteered for any mission available, just to keep busy, just so he wouldn't think about Rinoa. And Quistis, she was a worthy predecessor to Squall's command. At least now he didn't have to deal with the endless paperwork and pointless meetings about the budget.

Whatever, by returning to his former duties, he had been able to regain a little of his life before Rinoa, which involved training, continuing education classes, and of course, missions. He didn't mind at all. It had been easy to slip back into it, too easy, really, to be called the same old, because it wasn't quite the same. This was namely due to his newly budding social life with the ladies. If it could be called that. Mostly, he just got laid.

At some point, he had faced up to the fact that Rinoa wasn't coming home, and it was no use anymore to hang around the front gate with the hope that she might walk back into his life and accept him with open arms. It was a foolish dream, and he'd only end up hurting himself. So, one day, on a whim, he asked a girl to have dinner with him. It wasn't as hard as he'd thought, and not once since then, had he been turned down.

The problem was, most of them didn't measure up. They were all too eager to please him, too eager to jump into his bed, though they often giggled a weak protest or two, but nonetheless willing.

"Hey Squall! Hurry up!" Kadarius Mache called back to him. "You're gonna miss the car back!"

"Go on ahead," Squall called, "I'm staying here tonight."

"Squall Leonhart, breaking the rules? You got a date tonight or something?"

"Just tell Quistis I'm at the Dinchts for the night. Be back early tomorrow."

"Gotcha," Kadarius said. "Say hi to Zell for me."

"Will do," Squall replied and he hoisted his gunblade case to his shoulder and followed the cobblestone road to the Dincht residence.

Zell was waiting for him on the step, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. Squall thought he looked like hell. Zell's eyes were sunken, he'd lost a lot of weight and he looked, well, _old_. Zell had resigned following that mission to Esthar, the one that changed everything, and he'd done nothing but languish at home and drink ever since.

Squall felt bad for him, but didn't say so. He just didn't know how to approach the subject of his friend's health. Knowing Zell, it wouldn't be taken lightly, and might cause a rift between them. Squall knew now how important friends were, and he'd be damned if he lost another one just because he forgot his place. And it wasn't as if Squall was any better. He had his own way of beating himself up for his mistakes. He understood what Zell was going through, so if the boy wanted to drink, Squall was inclined to let him.

"Hey man," Zell said as he flicked ashes onto the ground. "You're back late."

Squall nodded and took a seat beside his friend on the step. "So, what's going on?"

"Same old shit, different day." Zell replied and took a long drag on his cigarette.

This was the same thing he'd said for the last several months, and Squall was beginning to worry that this wasn't just a phase Zell was going through but a real problem.

"Did Quistis come by to see you?"

Zell nodded and took a sip of whiskey. He passed the bottle to Squall, who took a long swig. The liquid burned going down, but Squall didn't mind. It would help him sleep, at least. He lit a cigarette and inhaled, wishing that he hadn't started this terrible habit in the first place. He'd started shortly after Rinoa had left and he'd never been able to completely give them up.

"Did she ask you about the instructor position?" he said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his nostrils.

Zell nodded again and crushed the cigarette out with the heel of his shoe and immediately lit another. "I'm thinking about it."

Squall was relieved to hear it. Zell had undergone quite a drastic change in the last five years. He'd always been prone to bouts of depression and self doubt, but they'd always been brief at best. In the last year, though, a depression had settled in, and Squall had seen little of the Zell he used to know. This Zell was quiet and self destructive, smoked and drank too much and was constantly grim. There was none of the cheerful optimist left in him, just bitter sarcasm and self defeating behavior.

And it wasn't just Zell. Every one of them had changed in some fundamental way after Rinoa left, even cheerful Selphie Tilmitt. Maybe it was because Rinoa had been their spiritual glue. Rinoa had been the one that bonded them together in the first place, but she was no longer there to hold them all together. Maybe that's why things started to fall apart, and there was nothing they could do to fix it, which made it all the more difficult to handle.

"So, I was thinking," Zell began.

"That explains the smoke pouring out of your ears," Squall replied with a wry grin.

"Squall making a joke?" Zell said to himself, baffled. "Is the world comin' to an end or somethin'?"

"Go ahead, talk," Squall urged.

"Lightweight," Zell chided. "So anyway, I've been thinking about something, and it's really been bugging me."

"What is it?"

"Well, Selphie was here the other day, tryin' to get me to come back and be a SeeD and all that, and I've been thinkin' about it a lot. The thing is, I'm kinda afraid to come back," Zell said.

"Afraid?"

"Yeah. Afraid. I mean, have you ever gone out on a mission and wondered if you were gonna come back alive? Did you ever sit down and try to count _how many _times you escaped death by the band of your boxer shorts? Have you ever thought about that, even once?"

"No," Squall replied.

It was a lie, but he didn't want to shake Zell's confidence even more. Zell looked up to him. Squall couldn't let him know that most of the time, he was just as scared as everyone else. He was just better at hiding it.

"Well I have, and I've thought about it so much that I'm scared to go back," Zell admitted. "You know, I tried to sit down and total up the number of times I've cheated death and I wasn't able to count them because there were _too many _to be counted. Like, there for a while, _every day _might have been my last. Every single day. Fuckin' scary."

"I never thought about it that way. I try not to think about it at all."

"I tried not to either, but it's hard _not_ to. I can't believe how stupid we were back then, riskin' our lives for someone else's problems. You were right all along, Squall," Zell said. He heaved a sigh and looked out into the night. "I don't want to be a SeeD anymore. I'm gonna tell 'em no."

"You don't have to be a SeeD," Squall said. "Quistis really wants you for the instructor's position. No one more qualified than you."

"Yeah, and what if Garden is attacked again? What then?"

Squall didn't have an answer for that. "I don't know what to tell you, Zell."

"I worry too much, hunh?" Zell asked.

"Yeah, you do." Squall said. "Look, if you want the instructor job, take it. I think you should, but I'm not going to tell you what to do. It's your life, not mine."

They sat in silence for a long time, passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty. Squall hoped Zell made the right decision and came back. It might be the thing he needed to pull him out of the slump he was in, but Squall couldn't tell him that. He didn't want to hurt his feelings or seem callous. Besides, he had no right to judge.

Finally Zell spoke. "Heard from Rinoa?"

"I don't think she's ever coming back."

It stung to say it out loud. As if it made it true. Squall wasn't ready to give up on her, but what choice did he have? Not a word in four years. Obviously, she wasn't interested in keeping the lines of communication open or they would have heard from her more than just once. That burned Squall more than anything, that she'd just walk away from everyone without looking back. After she'd made them all care about her.

"I don't think so either," Zell said. "I hope she's safe and happy, though."

"Me too," Squall replied.

He hesitated for a moment and patted his friend on the shoulder. Again, Squall was struck by how thin Zell was. He could feel the bones beneath his skin, where once there had been muscle. Maybe Zell wasn't just dealing with things in his own way. There was no doubt, Zell had a serious problem.

"Gotta get some sleep, man," Squall finally said.

"Sure thing, good buddy," Zell said. "Go ahead and use my room."

"You sure?" Squall asked, surprised. Zell never let anyone near his room, not even his good friends, unless it was an emergency.

Zell waved him away with his hand and lit himself another cigarette.

Upstairs, Squall didn't bother to undress, he just flopped onto the bed and fell quickly into sleep, and for the first time, he didn't dream of Rinoa.

* * *

He was pleased with the work he'd done tonight. He stood over the body of the dead girl and stared down at her ruined face. So beautiful. No one really knew how beautiful a woman could be in the last seconds of her life, when the terror of death gripped her heart. This one had been no different. Even though she was known for her _lack _of virtue, and in his eyes that made her dirty and ugly, she had still been stunning in that brief, fleeting instant when she looked into the eyes of death and knew what was to come.

He would leave her here. In the morning, someone would find her and gaze upon her, seeing his work of art, the woman awash in red and the pale shades of death. It was a pity that whomever found her would not appreciate his art for what it was.

* * *

_Notes _

_That little passage at the end of the chapter is brand spankin' new. _

_I don't sleep much anymore. Has it ever occured to anyone what a waste of time sleep really is? Do you realize how much could be accomplished in those hours that we sleep? Insomnia sucks, but lord, my house has never been so clean and I've never done so much writing in my life. _

_I'll post a couple of chapters for this during this week, but next week, there may be some down time. I'm going to have to take a break because I'm in danger of burning myself out again. I go on these writing frenzies that produce massive amounts of poetry and scads of prose and then I find I can't keep the pace up without wacking out. I feel that coming on, so I'm going to force myself not to write or even touch my computer for at least a week. I appologize in advance if I don't update for a bit. _

_Please review! Let me know you're reading. :)_


	3. Suspicion

**OCEANS APART**

_Sequel to Broken Wings _

_

* * *

_

_**"Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.**_ _**They're in each other all along."**_

_Jelaluddin Rumi _

* * *

_**Chapter Two**_

Suspicion

* * *

The _Stella Maris _had been docked at Balamb Harbor since the night before, and Rinoa Heartilly was reluctant to go ashore. She didn't want to risk being seen by anyone who might know her. If anyone did, she'd have to explain, and she wasn't prepared to do that. How to explain a five year absence and two young children? She hadn't wanted to stop in Balamb, but one of the sails had torn and had to be repaired before they could continue on their journey.

Rinoa had spent the majority of the day below deck with the children, teaching them their lessons, but now they were restless and clamoring to go visit the town. It was so seldom they got to visit land, the children had started to see it as a special treat. If Seifer came back soon, Rinoa send them with him.

Presently, Althea, her youngest, was busy trying to put a dress on Angelo, who was compliant but didn't seem to be enjoying it. Althea was her daughter by Seifer, and at age 3, quite a handful. The girl was bright and curious, but had a bit of a wild streak in her that no amount of discipline could keep in check. No matter what the punishment, Althea did what she wanted. Kind of like her father.

On the other hand, Arden, her son, was a quiet and serious boy. He looked very much like Squall might have at age four. Now that he was older, there was no mistaking the resemblance between the two. Arden was impossibly mature for his age, and sometimes Rinoa could scarcely believe that the boy was only four.

"Althea, put that away and leave Angelo alone," Rinoa told her daughter, who had produced a tube of lipstick and attempted to put it on the dog.

"I wanna go see the stores," Althea pouted. "Where's daddy?"

"He'll be back soon," she promised and she glanced at Arden. The boy was standing against the rail, looking out at the ocean beyond, watching the gulls dive and dance in eccentric circles above. He was happy to stand quietly by himself taking in the view. Hyne, he was so much like Squall, it was scary. The very expression on his face was the same one that she remembered seeing on Squall's face when he was deep in thought. No doubt now who his father was. No doubt at all.

Rinoa had thought a lot about returning to Balamb, to Garden, but she wasn't ready to face them yet. They were all her friends, and surely, they worried about her, but she wasn't prepared to confront them with any of this. She couldn't answer their questions or meet their hurt eyes. She knew that they all thought Adel had stolen some essential part of her, the part they loved most, but that wasn't the whole truth. That part of her was still around, though deeply buried, and sometimes, it was easier to pretend she didn't care than to face up to her own failures and mistakes.

In her own eyes, she'd been foolish to leave in the first place. Childish. Stupid. The truth was, much of what had occurred, she'd willingly let happen. Well, on some level, she'd been aware, and she'd done nothing to prevent it. Had she tried harder, maybe none of it would have happened, and her father might still be alive. Of all the things she'd done, her father's death was the one regret that weighed most heavily on her mind. She would go to her grave knowing her own act of patricide would haunt her even in the afterlife.

Seifer's voice broke her away from her thoughts as he scooped both the children up into his powerful arms. "Did you miss me?"

"Yessss!" Althea cried and threw her arms around Seifer's neck. Arden merely nodded, looking serious and contemplative.

"Which one of you is going to help me get groceries?" Seifer asked as he set them down.

"Mememememememe!" Althea said as she jumped up and down. "I wanna do it! I wanna help!"

"All right, then. Arden, can you help your Mother get the dive tanks filled?"

"Sure," Arden replied, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Knew I could count on you, kiddo," Seifer said and tousled the boy's hair.

Seifer looked up and smiled at Rinoa. "Hey, babe. I figured you'd want to fill the tanks since it was closer. Little to no risk of being spotted."

"Thanks," Rinoa replied and she opened the storage closet that housed the dive equipment. "Leave me the wagon, ok?"

"No problem," Seifer said and picked Althea up again and put her on his shoulders. "We'll leave as soon as everything's squared away."

Rinoa was relieved. Seifer was always pushing her to go visit with her old friends. She thought part of him wanted to see them too, though he never said so. She knew he too had a lot of regrets and wished to ask forgiveness of the people that he'd hurt most in the past.

She collected four of the tanks and placed them in the little red wagon that often came in handy for chores other than entertaining the children.

"Ready to go?" she asked Arden.

He nodded and she pulled the wagon behind her down the pier.

As they walked, Arden stared at people who walked by, at mail boxes, trees, flowers. These were all things he was not accustomed to and they never failed to fascinate him. She smiled and felt thankful that these were things he didn't take for granted, like other children raised on land might.

"Mom, what's that?" he asked as he pointed to a telephone booth nearby.

"It's a phone booth," she said. "It's for calling people on land. Kind of like our radio but it uses cables instead of air waves."

He tilted his head and studied it. "Why don't we have one?"

"Because we don't need one."

They arrived at the dive shop and Rinoa took the tanks inside to be filled with oxygen. Once filled, she began the task of placing them back into the wagon. The last one, she dropped on her foot.

"Damn it!" she cried and hopped around, holding her aching foot in her hand.

"Mom, _damn it_ is a bad word."

"I'm sorry, baby, it hurt. Sometimes when grown ups get hurt, they say bad things."

"Can I say bad things when I'm hurt?"

"Not until you're older."

She bent down to pick the tank up, and a familiar voice behind her said, "Rinoa?"

Rinoa swallowed hard. She knew that voice, and he was the last person she wanted to see, the one person she'd truly hoped to avoid. She placed the tank in the wagon and turned around.

"Hello, Squall," she said in a quiet voice and watched as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"You look great," he finally managed as he eyed the little boy at her side that stared up at him with big copper-blue eyes.

"Mom, who is he?" Arden asked, curious.

"An old friend, baby," she said and brushed the hair out of his eyes with the kind of gentleness a mother reserves only for her children.

"I'm Arden," he said and extended his hand. Rinoa covered her mouth to hide a smile. Sometimes, it was easy to believe that there was a little old man hiding somewhere inside of her son.

Squall smiled and took it in his own. "I'm Squall."

Rinoa trembled. This wasn't how she'd planned to introduce Squall to his son, but she guessed now was as good a time as any. Except that she couldn't find the words to tell him the truth.

"What are these?" Squall asked as he gestured at the tanks.

"Oxygen tanks," Rinoa answered.

"For what?"

"Diving."

She could see by the look on his face that he wasn't having an easy time with this, and she wasn't exactly making it easy for him. She felt a bitter pang of guilt stab at her.

He insisted on helping her return the tanks to the boat, which made her nervous. Seifer would be back with Althea any time, and a confrontation between the two would not be a pretty thing.

"We were all so worried about you, Rinoa," Squall said as he placed the last tank in the tiny closet. "We missed you."

She sighed and went to the railing. "I missed all of you. So much, it hurts sometimes."

Squall looked down at the deck below. "Is this what you've been doing for the last five years?"

"Pretty much," she replied.

"Why did you stay away so long? No phone calls? No letters?"

There was a bitter edge in Squall's voice that cut Rinoa to the bone. He was angry, as she knew he would be, and doing his best to hide it.

She didn't answer. She didn't know how to explain it all without sounding like a selfish bitch.

"Rinoa, are you back?" Seifer's voice called from the pier. Althea was at his heels, a popsicle in her hand.

Squall's face hardened as he realized that she hadn't been sailing alone. One look at Seifer and Squall's face colored, his cheeks flamed and his eyes turned towards her accusingly as she nodded a weak confirmation.

"How could you?"

"Don't ask me that," she hissed.

Seifer scowled as he sauntered to where they stood. This was exactly what Rinoa had hoped wouldn't happen, but Seifer surprised her by breaking into a happy grin.

"Hey man, long time no see," he said and extended his hand.

Squall looked at the hand as if it were something vile and filthy. Without a word, he turned and dashed off the boat and down the pier. Rinoa's heart thundered in her chest as she leaned against the cabin door, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Seifer put his hand upon her shoulder. "Go talk to him," he said. "He deserves to hear it from you."

"I can't," she said as she wiped away her tears.

"Rinoa, go to him. Explain things. You can't hide forever, babe," he said gently. "I'll watch the kids."

With a heavy sigh, she got to her feet and sprinted after Squall, Angelo at her heels.

* * *

Quistis Trepe had never seen Garden in such an uproar. Everyone was huddled in small groups, whispering, and the young women especially, looked over their shoulders with nervous anticipation as if expecting to be attacked at any moment by a brutal, faceless killer. Quistis herself was afraid to be alone at the moment. She had seen the photos of Sylania Dulene, found dead in Balamb this morning, and the other girl, Ingston Cortman who'd been found in the woods two days ago, and it left her feeling a bit nauseous. They were heart breaking photos, two lovely girls, both cadets, murdered on her watch. The question was, why were they out after curfew? Cadets were not allowed to leave the premises without permission, and neither had a pass to leave at the time of their death. Quistis wondered how she could let something like this happen, how she could become so lazy about enforcing the rules.

She sighed and pulled files for both the girls and placed them on her desk. A quick glance through them told her that both girls were bright, but on the verge of failing out of the academy, both on academic probation for poor marks and attendance. So how the hell had they gotten out of their rooms? From now on, she'd have to be certain that the staff enforced the curfew, and she would have to enforce stricter punishment for breaking these rules, for SeeDs and Cadets alike. There was no excuse for this, and she felt quite guilty that these girls had been raped and murdered because there had been too much freedom.

What bothered her most was that Squall Leonhart was the only suspect. She didn't understand why. He'd been gone so much on missions that he had little time for anything but training. Not to mention that Squall wasn't a cold blooded killer. Quistis was almost certain of that. She'd known him a long time, and she could not fathom him doing something like this. Anyone who knew him personally would agree.

True, he'd dated both girls, but that didn't mean anything. Quistis knew for a fact that he hadn't dated either seriously. He hadn't dated anyone seriously since Rinoa had left five years ago.

And where the hell was he, anyway? He was supposed to return last night and check in with her but he hadn't. She knew now that he'd stayed the night at the Dinchts, and he'd sent word that he'd return early, but it was going on noon now.

Quistis rubbed her eyes and sat back in her chair, refusing to let doubts about Squall's innocence enter her mind. It couldn't be him. It just couldn't.

As commander, she wasn't supposed to let her relationships become personal, but there were certain exceptions, Squall being one of them. She couldn't help that he was one of her closest childhood friends, and she couldn't help what they'd been through. It was hard to be impersonal when there was such a long history behind them. Not to mention the pathetic crush she'd still managed to maintain after all these years. It was silly and sad, but she could not make herself give up the ghost.

Despite her silly crush, she still wished for Rinoa to return. Quistis missed her. Besides, Squall might not be so grumpy all the time if Rinoa were around. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and she knew that only Rinoa could cheer him up. Hyne knows, Quistis had tried to do that, and had failed miserably.

"Quisty?" Selphie said from the doorway. She was red eyed and she sniffled a little. "The Dulene's are here."

Quistis sighed, rubbed her eyes and put her glasses on. This was something she wished she didn't have to do. But the Dulene's wanted answers, and she couldn't blame them. "Thanks Selphie. Send them in."

* * *

Seifer stood at the railing of the boat, his daughter Althea perched on his shoulders like a little bird. Every now and then, a drop of syrup from her popsicle dripped onto his head but he didn't mind. Fatherhood had taught him not to worry about the little things.

Beside him, Arden was eating his own popsicle, though unlike his sister, the boy took great pains to keep the treat from dripping and had wrapped a napkin around the bottom to keep his hands clean. Sometimes it was hard to remember that the boy was only four. He was a good kid, not at all like the little spit-fire on his shoulders.

Of all his accomplishments in life, Seifer was most proud of his kids. He knew that Arden was not his son but that didn't matter. Seifer had been the one who was there when he was born, and he was there when he learned to crawl, took his first step, said his first word. If the realization that his life was full of mistakes and regrets hadn't changed him, fatherhood had.

At first he'd had is doubts about whether or not he'd be a good father. Before Arden was born, he worried that his personality would eventually fuck the kid up, but he'd been wrong. It had come naturally to him, and an impatient man like Seifer Almasy had found that he had all the patience in the world when it came to children. Even ornery little Althea was hard to lose his temper with, even though some of the stunts she'd pulled were enough to drive anyone crazy. Her constant chatter about everything in sight was at times maddening enough to drive even the most patient man over the edge. Seifer had learned to tune her out most of the time, when the chatter was just a bunch of silly nonsense and made up words.

Seifer bore all of this without complaint because he knew his involvement with these kids mattered. He wanted to give these two children the best life he could give them, and he wanted to give them all the love that he had been denied as a child. He hoped that by being the best father he could be, he could at least make up for his crimes in some small way.

"Daddy?" Althea asked as she ran her sticky fingers through his hair.

"What baby?"

"When are we going to see Unkie Rage and Antie Fooge again?"

"I don't know," Seifer said, smiling at his daughter's nicknames for his two best friends in the world. "Maybe soon. It depends on where your mommy wants to go."

Seifer glanced at the boy at his side, who stood silently, staring out at the activity in the harbor with a quiet interest. Seifer knew Arden wasn't really interested in the boats or the people. He had that look on his face that meant he was trying in vain to figure something out. His brow was lined with what looked like worry and his copper-blue eyes held a distant look of tortured contemplation.

"Hey little man," Seifer said as he poked Arden in the arm, "what's up?"

"Did you like living on land?" Arden asked.

Seifer had never really thought about that. "I guess I did," he replied.

"If we ever live on land, I want to live here," Arden declared.

Seifer chuckled. "What's so special about this place?"

"Just a feeling. There are nice people here."

"How do you know that?"

Arden turned his intense gaze to Seifer and said, "Because my real dad and his friends live here."

Seifer was startled, and a little hurt. _My real dad. _To Seifer's knowledge, Rinoa had never told Arden about Squall. She had told him stories about her friends in Balamb, but she'd always left Squall out, or if she talked about him at all, she only called him the brave knight. It wasn't possible for Arden to know about him, was it? Had Rinoa told him the truth? Seifer didn't think so and he made a mental note to ask her later.

"How do you know about your real dad?" Seifer asked.

"I just know," Arden replied with a shrug.

"Your mom tell you?"

"She didn't have to."

Seifer was miffed. Arden was not a liar, so when he said that Rinoa hadn't told him, Seifer believed him.

In the past, Arden had said startling things to his parents, things he shouldn't know at his age but did. Rinoa had said it was because Arden was so observant, that he picked up on things that most children don't. Seifer was beginning to doubt that theory. There had to be something more.

* * *

So, they'd found his work of art. They'd seen how beautiful she was. They had taken photographs and stared in awe at his masterpiece.

He was pleased. Very pleased indeed.

It was a pity, though that he wasn't there to see their reactions, to see the looks on their faces. He considered this part of his art, too. Art by proxy. Horror was as beautiful an emotion as pain and fear. A pity that he didn't get to see them tremble and wretch at the sight of her. A pity that they didn't understand.

No one really understood.

* * *

_Notes_

_New content abounds! Some of these chapters were pretty short. Had to beef it up just a little to round it out better. In this one, I've added a section from the next chapter as well as an all new section with Seifer and the short passage at the end. I'll probably be combining the old chapters a bit and adding new content as I go along._

_For all you Squinoa fans out there, stick around. There may be one in your future. Or maybe not. It might be a Quall, or whatever they call 'em. I'm a big meanie, so I'm not telling._

_Review please...let me know what you think!_


	4. An Unlikely Suspect

**OCEANS APART**

_Sequel to Broken Wings_

**_"Longing becomes more poignant if in the distance_**

**_you can't tell whether your friend is going away_**

**_or coming back. The pushing away pulls you in."_**

_On Separation, Jelaluddin Rumi_

**Chapter Three**

An Unlikely Suspect

  


As he watched the panic around him, the frenzy over the two dead girls, he smiled secretly to himself. He wasn't afraid of being caught, no, he'd been too careful for that. There wasn't a single shred of evidence to connect him to the crime. Besides, he was a friendly guy and a high ranking SeeD with a clean record. No one would suspect him of such terrible crimes. For one thing, the Gunblade was not his weapon of choice; he used it only to kill. He was an information specialist, not a fighter.

So, they'd found the two girls. They hadn't yet discovered the other four, and at this, he laughed. He couldn't wait for them to discover the remains that were hidden right here in Garden. He he anticipated this discovery with the kind of glee a child awaits dawn on Christmas morning. He was proud of his work, his art. Others might say it was brutal and disgusting, the things he did, but he thought of them as an art. The women were his canvas, his portraits of pain and suffering. And they were all so lovely in their deaths, so pale, so innocent in their final moments. Pain and fear purged them of their stains. They saw in the final seconds of their lives the error of their ways, and it purified them. That was true beauty.

The perfect thing about it was that someone else would take the fall. Someone he hated. It was only right that the legend should be blamed. It was set up so perfectly, and no one would ever know better. But, he'd have to be careful. He'd have to control his desire to kill once the legend was locked up. If he messed up, the legend might go free. He couldn't have that.

He had already planned his next kill, and it would be the most perfect of all because she was free of the stains that marked the others. She was pure, untainted. He imagined that she would be perfectly angelic in that final moment, and the most beautiful of all.

She would be his greatest work of art.

* * *

Squall Leonhart went directly to his dorm when he returned from Balamb, rather than going directly to the Commander's office. He wasn't quite ready to tell Quistis the news, nor was he up for explaining it all. He was having a hard enough time making sense of it on his own, and sharing it with someone would only complicate and confuse things. He dropped his bag on the floor and flopped onto the bed, though he wasn't tired. All he wanted to do was lay there and feel sorry for himself.

If Rinoa had stopped loving him, that would be one thing, but she'd said she still loved him. Those words had stirred up all the old feelings he'd had for her in the first place, the ones he thought he was over. Truth be told, he'd never been over any of it, he'd just told himself that so that he wouldn't be miserable with her gone. Now, he was miserable again. She'd said she loved him. But she'd said she loved Seifer too. And it was Seifer she was with, not him. Seifer she'd sailed away with and started a family with. That should have told him everything he needed to know, but hearing her say that she still loved him was enough to remind him that he had never stopped loving her.

And because she was still with Seifer and not him he began to hate her a little too.

Damn it.

Before he could slip into a self imposed coma of depression, there was a knock at the door. "Enter," he mumbled.

"Hey man," Irvine Kinneas said as he stepped into the room. "What's up?"

"The ceiling," Squall muttered.

Irvine looked up to see that, indeed, the ceiling was up, and he chuckled. "Cute, Squall. I can tell just by looking at you that you got a bug up your butt or something. Feel like talking?"

"Not really."

"Figures," Irvine said. "By the way, Quistis is looking for you. Be warned, she's on the warpath."

"Great," Squall said and sat up. "That's the last thing I need."

"Man, it's been crazy here with all this shit going on. I kind of don't blame her, you know. She's got a lot to deal with right now."

"What are you talking about?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Oh, man. Some nut job has been killing female cadets. Two found dead in the last two days, both sliced up. It's pretty sick, if you ask me. I didn't see the photos, but I heard it's pretty gruesome. Suffice it to say, Quistis isn't exactly in the best mood."

"Which cadets?" Squall asked, as if it mattered. He was stalling. When Quistis was in a bad mood, she wanted to talk to him, and he didn't know if he could handle being burdened with her troubles too. He had enough of his own to deal with, and he couldn't even handle those.

"Ingston Cortman and Sylania Dulene," Irvine said.

Squall hadn't expected to hear names he was familiar with. He'd dated both girls very briefly, despite the fact that they were senior cadets. It was forbidden, of course, but often overlooked by the staff, so no one really minded much. Besides, both girls had been eighteen and on the verge of graduation or expulsion. Old enough for someone Squall's age to date.

Squall shuddered and put his hand on his forehead. Ingston had reminded Squall of Rinoa, in both looks and personality. Sy, well, she had been all talk and no substance. Between the two, there had only been a handful of outings, and he hadn't gotten to know them too well before they dropped him.

"You ok?" Irvine asked.

"Yeah," Squall replied. "I'd better go see Quistis."

"Hey, do me a favor. Be nice to her for a change. She's blaming herself for all this, and she could really use someone to talk to. If that's not too much to ask."

"I'll try."

* * *

In Quistis' office, he was asked to have a seat. There was a stack of files on the desk, and several more on the chair beside it. There was also a half eaten sandwich and a thermos of coffee. Quistis usually ate her lunch in the Quad, Squall knew, so he figured it must have been a really bad day in Quisty land. He sighed and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair as he waited. He hoped this wouldn't take all day. He had some moping to do.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Squall," Quistis said as she breezed in, perfectly balanced on a pair of heels, looking her usual professional self. "It has been insane around here today."

"So I've heard," he replied.

"Coffee?" she asked as she sat down.

"No thanks," he said. He and Zell had downed an entire pot early this morning, and the thought of more made him sick to his stomach.

Quistis sat back and sighed and stared at the files for a moment.

"Is there any particular reason you wanted to see me?" he asked.

She nodded absently and took a file from the stack. "I'm going to have to write you up for failing to check in last night. And for not having a pass to be off premises."

He stared at her. "You're joking."

"I wish I were," she said. "Effective today, no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to leave Garden without permission. You want a night on the town, you must clear it with me first."

Squall sighed.

"And," she continued. "Any future dates must be chaperoned by a staff member."

"That's crap," Squall groaned.

"Crap, but necessary. I'm sure you've heard the news."

"Irvine informed me earlier, yes."

She sighed and removed her glasses. "I'm sure he did. But there's a lot that Irvine doesn't know, that no one outside this office knows."

"Meaning?"

"Squall . . . you're the only suspect."

Squall was aghast. "Me?!"

"Yes, you."

What the hell? How could he be a suspect? He hadn't set foot in Garden for more than two months until today. "I don't understand, Quistis. Why me?"

She sighed and picked up a note pad. "You dated both girls, am I correct?"

"Yeah, but only a couple of times. I don't see how that would make me a suspect. Sy went out with a lot of guys, not just me."

"I know that," Quistis said testily. "Believe me, I've been looking at every possible angle here, ok? But the fact is, you dated both of them. Both were murdered with a gunblade."

"A lot of people use them now."

"I know that too. If you'd let me finish, maybe you'd see where I'm coming from," Quistis said. "Sylania was killed last night, shortly after your train arrived. You didn't check in last night, so technically, we don't know where you were. Ingston was killed about two and a half months ago. Her remains were found by hunters a couple of days ago, in the woods. You were here two months ago, were you not?"

"Yeah, but . . ."

"Did you leave Garden at any time?"

"I went to visit Zell," he protested. "That's where I was last night."

Quistis rubbed her eyes. "I'm sure Zell will vouch for you, but the problem is that we don't have record of you clearing your visits to Zell at any time."

This was not happening. How could Quistis think that he'd done it? They'd known one another a long time, and though he hadn't been as nice as he should have, she had to know that he wouldn't do something like this.

"There are a couple of detectives from Balamb that want to speak to you," Quistis continued. "They've asked for your file, and they want me to put you on suspension until further notice."

"Hell, Quistis, why don't you just lock me up in the Brig while you're at it?"

"Don't joke," she admonished. "They wanted me to do exactly that, but I'm not going to. I told them a suspension would be enough for now. But I have to ask you. Did you do it?"

"No, I didn't do it!" he cried and he slammed his fist against her desk. "How could you even think it?"

"Squall, calm down. I don't think you did it, but those detectives do. Right now, I'm trying my best to prove them wrong, all right? But I need your help to do that. I need you to be patient for now, so just relax, ok?"

First Rinoa and now this. "When it rains, it pours," he mumbled and closed his eyes. "Why the fuck is this happening to me?!"

"I don't know, but we'll find out."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Quistis stared at Squall. Squall stared at his hands.

"We're going to get you out of this, Squall. Trust me, ok? They can't charge you with anything if they don't have any evidence against you other than what we have now. And you have an alibi for the time you were not at Garden, as long as Zell remembers the visits. If you didn't do it, they won't be able to come up with anything."

It didn't make him feel any better to hear her say this, but he kept that to himself. She was trying to calm his fears, trying to help him, and he didn't have the heart to say anything.

"So, until further notice, you are expected to stay with someone at all times or spend your time in public places. That way, should something happen, you have a witness to back you up," she said. "I'd like you to help Selphie out in Student Services while you're on suspension. She's swamped and she could use the extra help. Please report to her office first thing tomorrow morning."

Great. Now Selphie was going to baby-sit him. It wasn't that he didn't like her, but her constant cheeriness would drive him crazy. Hell, she might drive him to murder.

"Am I dismissed?"

"For now," Quistis said and she looked sadly at the half eaten sandwich and dropped it into the trash. "I'll let you know when the detectives arrive."

He nodded. "Thanks, Quistis," he said.

"You're welcome," she replied.

"Uh, I'm going to get something to eat," he said, a tremor in his voice as he stood up to leave. "Would you like me to get you anything?"

Quistis smiled for the first time since she'd walked into the office. "That would be great."

* * *

Selphie Tilmitt hadn't felt right all day. It wasn't just the news that one of her favorite students had been murdered that made her feel that way, though that was certainly part of it. It was something else. She'd woken up this morning with an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she did not know what it meant. 

At first she'd thought that she was finally pregnant, but she wasn't. She and Irvine had tried so hard these last five years to have a baby, but to no avail. There was no reason they couldn't, Dr. Kadowaki had said, but still, after years of trying, there was no baby. Several miscarriages, but no baby. It made her sad to see the nursery she and Irvine had spent so much time decorating was going to waste. It depressed her to see the crib that Irvine built by hand sit empty and the frilly yellow curtains fade.

Since she'd become a Sorceress, she was prone to premonitions and strange feelings just before something happened, but this feeling didn't have anything to do with Sylania Dulene's death. No, it was something else, and it was affecting her concentration. An itch she couldn't quite scratch.

She'd already checked in with Irvine ten or twelve times today, so it wasn't him. And Quistis was stressed, but otherwise fine. Squall had returned from his mission in good health, so it couldn't be him either. She called Zell twice, just to make sure that he was ok, too.

That left only one other.

Rinoa.

There was a special bond between Selphie and Rinoa. They were sisters, but they also possessed the ability to contact one another through telepathy, as sorceresses are able to do. Selphie had tried to reach Rinoa this way thousands of times in the last five years, and not once was she able to get a clear connection. Rinoa had always shut her out, refusing to let Selphie in her mind. How many times had she reached Rinoa, only to be told to go away? Selphie had lost count.

She closed her eyes and thought of her sister, pictured her, and was once again told to go away. But this time, Rinoa was crying when she said it.

_"Leave me be, Selphie."_

_

* * *

_

* * *

"Two days to Centra, babe," Seifer Almasy said as he lay down beside Rinoa. Her back was to him, and he fit himself comfortably behind her, and slung his arm across her hip. He yawned and switched off the lamp, then settled his face into her soft, glossy hair. "Can't wait to dive those caves." 

Rinoa said nothing. Seifer thought she might already be asleep, but then he heard the sound of her crying softly. Every now and then, she did this, and he never knew what to do to comfort her. It was her decision to sail away from Balamb, it wasn't like he forced her to leave. On the contrary. He'd thought that maybe she'd feel better once she saw her old friends, maybe she'd stop being so sullen.

He'd begged her to stay a few days, to visit Garden. Secretly, he'd hoped she would. He was growing tired of living on a boat, in cramped living quarters, tired of eating seafood day in and day out. He didn't breathe a word of this to her, of course, because he did enjoy the adventure of exploring the world, but he also wanted a home, a job, friends, maybe. He wouldn't have minded visiting Garden at all. He had some apologies to make, after all.

Seifer knew what a fool he'd been. He looked back on those years with regret, and he'd faced up to what he'd done, though he knew that there was no forgiving any of it. He didn't expect anyone to forgive him. In short, he'd grown up, mellowed, and he quit lying to himself about how wonderful and great he was. There was nothing wonderful or great about what he'd done. He'd just been a stupid kid who believed every pipe dream Ultimecia fed him. None of her promises had come true.

Adel's promise had come true, however, but that was not Adel's doing by any means. Rinoa had chosen him over Squall, by some miracle, and he was thankful for that. Rinoa had given him her heart and two beautiful children. Because of this, he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

Though he knew Arden was Squall's son, it didn't matter. Seifer was the one who raised him, who cared for him, he was the one who loved him, not Squall. It was he who Arden called Daddy. If it came down to it, he'd be willing to die for the kid, no matter what.

And Althea. Hyne, wasn't she something else? Never was there a more rambunctious, feisty little girl. Althea was his darling, his baby. She had her mother's eyes, and his personality. He couldn't help but spoil her rotten.

So Rinoa lay beside him, crying softly into her arm, and he didn't know how to comfort her. "Don't cry, baby," he whispered and pulled her tight against him. "It'll be all right." He said this with confidence, but he wasn't so sure things would be all right.

"I didn't tell him, Seifer."

"Why not?" he asked as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "He needs to know he's got a son."

"I know, but he was so angry with me, I couldn't."

"You should have told him anyway. It's not fair."

"Since when have you ever cared what was fair to Squall or not?" she asked.

"Don't pick a fight with me Rinoa," Seifer warned. "I don't care, but I thought about it a lot, and if I were him, I'd want to know."

"Please, Seifer, I just want to go to sleep, ok?" she whispered.

"Fine," he growled. "But some time soon, you have to tell him. If I have to make you, I will."

Rinoa rolled over and glared at him. "Don't threaten me, Seifer."

"That's not a threat, it's a promise."

* * *

He awoke with a start. He'd had dreams of blood and pain. Not his own, but that of his victims. They'd been dreams of death and murder and rape, but he considered these good dreams. If he could not act out on his impulses now, at least he could do so while he slept. Not quite the same as actually killing, but mildly gratifying nonetheless. Still, he had the urge to destroy someone, anyone, and it was getting harder by the minute not to. 

His urge to kill was growing more frequent. At first, it had only been once or twice a year, when he was younger. Then, once a month. Now, it was all he thought about. It was all he wanted to do. He didn't want to go to his office and push paper all day. No, he wanted to take life, destroy it, defile it. He wanted to create a work of pain and agony, to bring hurt to someone. He was growing impatient. He had to, no, needed to kill. He wanted them to find the body hidden here in Garden. He wanted them to discover the girl he'd left in the fire cavern. Only the discovery of a body would help calm the urge to kill again. It was pure vanity, he knew, but he needed to be recognized, he wanted them to see what he could do, how beautiful a woman could be in her death. He wanted this now, but he would have to control himself.

But if they didn't discover the others soon, he would have to do it again. The perfect one could wait.


End file.
